Fans pick 100 books like Women in Early Modern England 1550-1720

Did you think that all women married in former centuries? This fine and path-breaking book will put you right.

Amy Froide reveals that about one in five never married, and tells their stories to throw light on lives traditionally overlooked. Among the landed classes, many remained single because fathers couldn’t or wouldn’t raise a dowry to attract a suitable husband. Middle-class girls might be pressed to stay home and look after ageing parents or orphaned siblings. But we learn that other women remained single from choice, prizing their independence.

A lucky few had inherited the means to pay their way, while others opened a shop or practiced a craft, and took pride in supporting themselves.

I found this book fascinating. The guilds of early modern London were a male-only ‘closed shop’. But Laura Gowing’s pioneering study shows how resourceful women found ways to exploit loopholes and carve out a role in the world of skilled trades and crafts.

A guild member’s widow was permitted to continue her husband’s trade (provided she didn’t remarry), and she might take on a female apprentice and use the signing-on ‘premium’ to grow her business. Once the apprenticeship was completed, the young woman would now have the skills to set up on her own in the suburbs or provinces where guilds had no control.

I liked the case-studies where Gowing has been able to reconstruct individual lives to bring this new world vividly to life.   

Men thought women had no place in politics, but when England was engulfed in civil war in the 1640s women couldn’t opt out.

Ann Hughes explores the lives of those trapped in cities and castles under siege, or left to support their families when their husbands went off to war, perhaps never to return. I like the way she widens the scope of her book to show, for example, how both Cavalier and Roundhead propagandists exploited gender images, mocking their adversaries as effeminate cuckolds.

Hughes demonstrates too how the war broke down gender barriers, just as the twentieth-century world wars were to do. Women found a new voice, and played new roles, unparalleled until modern times. 

I love this book because it gives us the stories of two intelligent young women caught up in the turmoil of the civil war, told in their own words. Both belonged to royalist families, and they endured the hardships and dangers that came from being on the losing side.

Halkett’s vivid memoir focuses on her early life as a spirited young woman who engaged in forbidden and risky romantic liaisons. She even joined one lover in a hazardous plot that enabled the king’s younger son (the future James II) to escape from the Tower of London. It reads like the storyline of a historical novel!

This non-fiction book helped to reshape my reading of historical and mythological women and to understand representation and the voice of the ‘other’. Hall explores the power and (ab)use of language and how feminine myths and symbols are important to be unveiled and celebrated. Her Jungian perspective introduced me to archetypes, especially in mythology, and remains an inspiration to both my theatre work and my writing. 

Mikki Kendall’s account of what Black women and girls are up against in America left me angry and devastated. Her description of how Black girls are sexualized at shockingly young ages and how portraying them this way enables sexual abuse absolutely gutted me.

For me, this book was a powerful reminder of why no woman is safe in a culture that says you have to be viewed as respectable in order to be worthy of protection from violence.

I love “Persepolis” because the author very accurately and with a great amount of humor describes, and through graphics, portrays the very heavy topic of the 1979 Iranian Revolution. 

She makes it easy for people who weren’t there at the time and are not a part of the culture or history to imagine what happened. I like how she describes family relationships, especially with her parents, in a tribal culture. In a very transparent way, she accurately describes the differences between private family life and the one that is portrayed publicly.

For centuries, Christian preachers and leaders held all women responsible for Eve’s sin. Since Eve ate forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, leaders called womankind “the devil’s gateway” and the source of all suffering and death. Men also used the Genesis account of Eve’s creation from Adam’s rib to argue that all women should hold a secondary status in church and society. However, as Amanda Benckhuysen shows, women through the centuries created a counter tradition. They reinterpreted Eve to argue for women’s dignity and their right to preach, teach, and receive an education. Made from superior substance (Adam’s flesh) rather than the dirt of the ground, Eve was God’s worthy creation. Eve sinned, but so did Adam. Thus, Eve’s “curse” did not bar her female descendants from ministerial roles.  

When Lauren Cook and I published They Fought Like Demons, we knew that our book, although groundbreaking, was only the tip of the iceberg in the story of women soldiers in the Civil War, and we always hoped that another scholar would pick up the torch and move the story forward.  Shelby Harriel has done just that.  Behind the Rifle is a meticulously researched and ably written account of the distaff soldiers who hailed from Mississippi, or found themselves there.  Citing previously unknown sources along with revealing newly-located photographs, Harriel’s contribution to the history of women soldiers is remarkable.

Book one in the Lacey Flint series, Now You See Me, got me hooked on the author and British mysteries. The writing style is evocative and deeply atmospheric, reminding me of gothic novels with a modern aspect.

I liked Lacey as a character, but what I found most compelling was the plot, which was a literary spider web. Although it was too graphic for my taste in places, the story was riveting enough to keep me engrossed until the very last page. I could barely keep track of all the twists and turns. By the time I finished reading, I had applauded the mind that could come up with such a complex story.